


Everything I didn't say

by chameleonmikey



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, based off of their song, everything i didnt say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 21:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2203167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chameleonmikey/pseuds/chameleonmikey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael misses (Y/N) and decides to finally do something about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything I didn't say

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stella_gracex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stella_gracex/gifts).



Everyone has things they regret. Most people Michael's age regretted not taking that job offer or going to that one party. Michael supposed he regretted those things, too, but at 3 in the morning, there was nothing he regretted more than letting (Y/N) go. His thoughts were always with her late at night. Tonight, his blankets were a mess, bunched up and twisted, and Michael lay on top of them on his back. A particular bunch was digging into his back but he didn't make a move to fix it.

He could remember the night she left clearer than crystal. They had been out in town at night and he had been drunk – only slightly, though. (Y/N) had tried to get him to listen to her but eventually she gave up and dumped him on the spot. He remembered the way the chill breeze changed from refreshing to an icicle to the heart the moment the words were out of her red, red lips, the way her hair had whipped violently around her face as she walked away, and the way she stumbled away, even though she hadn't had a sip to drink.

Michael groaned at the memory and pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes, rubbing mercilessly. The way she left him was grounds for him to be pissed, but it had been a long time coming, and he knew there was no one to blame but himself.

(Y/N) was gorgeous, and kind, and smart, but he didn't appreciate any of that while he had had her. He hadn't taken the chance to tell her how beautiful she looked, both in her sweats and a tight dress, and when they hugged, he had ignored the sparks he felt and had just tried to get up her skirt. While she was getting straight A's, Michael had started drinking and the only thing he thought he was good at was damaging his hair.

For a while their relationship had been perfect. Michael had seen himself getting married to (Y/N). Just touching each other caused thunderstorms, and they practically had a psychic bond. They had even written each other sickening sweet love letters that had made the boys gag when they found Michaels letters from (Y/N), wrapped up with a red shoelace. Michael kept those letters and they were sitting next to him, opened and crumped, on his bed. Some were scattered on the floor.

Later, he could feel (Y/N) constantly slipping through his fingers, even though he did what he thought at the time was the best for her. When he started the band with Luke and Calum, he wrote her love songs for them to perform, he bought her flowers or band tees when he fucked up, and when he accidentally went too far that one night when her parents were out of town, he didn't touch her again for weeks.

Eventually, he had stopped buying her flowers. Stopped doing anything romantic. Not only was he ditching school for band practice, but he was ditching her for it. He cancelled on her more times in a month than the amount of times he texted her. Michael didn't really have a reason for it. He was just numb – and not the good kind, the kind that her kisses left him. He loved her, loved her, loved her, but he couldn't bring himself to show it anymore.

(Y/N) tried her best to help. She insisted Michael talk to someone and tried to talk to the boys. They tried, but there was really nothing wrong with Michael, so there was nothing that could be fixed. Though they barely ever talked, they both hung on, Michael because he knew letting (Y/N) go would only make him even more numb than he already was, and (Y/N) because she still sometimes got flashes of her old Michael.

Michael sometimes let (Y/N) drag him out to do something, but it never ended well. He always ended up with a black eye, drunk, or with (Y/N) pissed at him. He didn't know why (Y/N) kept trying and didn't just leave. When she finally did leave, he was so shocked he was snapped out of his haze.

(Y/N) had left him alone in town in the middle of the night, intoxicated. He had watched her go, and only realized when she was gone how bad it was. He screamed and cried and kicked anything and everything over, and eventually fell asleep on a park bench, the idea of texting one of the boys never even occurred to him. He woke up to no messages from (Y/N). That was how he had known it was over.

A couple days later, Michael had approached (Y/N) at school and it had resulted in a yelling match in the middle of a hallway. Apparently half the school knew they were broken up before it was even official. Michael didn't go to school for a week after that day.

Now, when Michael was awake, and (Y/N) was his 3 am thoughts, he hated himself for everything he let happen. He wished he had told her what was happening to him while she was still talking to him. He wished he had told her that one day he just woke up empty, and that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break free. He wished he had told her that even though he hadn't acted like it, he loved her. And he especially wished he had told her to stay.

Every night he mentally scolded himself for not telling (Y/N) these things. He knew it was a little too late, but he wanted to do nothing more than ring (Y/N) up and tell her that he'd sacrifice everything to make it right. It wasn't anybody's fault but his own and he needed to fix it.

The boys, especially Luke, who had his own problems with his girlfriend, encouraged him to make a move, but Michael couldn't bring himself to do it. He saw (Y/N) around school every day and she looked happier than she had ever looked when he was with her. Michael didn't know if he could bring himself to be the cause for her eyes taking on that zombie look again.

During the day, he didn't let himself think about her. He was happy-go-lucky, and was punk rock, thank you very much. He dyed his hair bright colours and put on the apprentice that he had a personality to match. Only the boys saw the real him, and even then, not that often. At night, he let himself think about (Y/N).

He wanted to erase her memories, as selfish as that was of him. He wanted to be able bring it back to the start take it from the top. Go back to when he could see them going far together. He Michael didn't know why, but he was feeling especially shitty tonight. (Y/N) had looked extra pretty today for some reason and watching Calum make out with some random girl at a partier earlier had made Michael feel sick. He had left the party early, which was the reason he was now crashed out on his messy bed in the dark.

He reached for his phone, straining his fingertips to reach it. He managed to knock it over and it fell to the floor.  
“Shit,” he said, voice rough, and he let himself slide onto the floor to grab it. Michael curled up into himself, pulling a blanket down from the bed to keep himself warm. He thumbed his phone without turning it on for a couple minutes before sighing and entering the lock code.

What he was about to do was probably a really bad idea. He was holding onto his broken heart and he just wished that it was all a bad dream. If it was a bad dream, (Y/N) would answer the phone and he would be able to hear that beautiful smile in her voice, and the sleepy tone she had when she was tired but was trying to pay attention.

Before he could stop himself, Michael entered her number into the dial pad. He had deleted her number so he couldn't ring her when he was drunk, but when he was sober, he could remember her number better than he could remember a majority of his own song lyrics.

He fumbled on the dial pad for a bit but he got the number in and didn't stop to think and let himself doubt before he pressed call. It dimly occurred to Michael that it was past 3 am, probably nearing 4, and that if (Y/N) wasn't at a party, she would be asleep. He almost hung up because he felt so bad at the thought of waking her up but he kept ringing, knowing he'd never have the courage to do it again if he hung up now.

The phone rang 4 times before (Y/N) answered and Michael sucked in a sharp breath. He felt like his chest was about to cave in. It was silent for a moment and Michael could tell he had woken (Y/N) up.  
“Hello?” she said after a hundred centuries, her voice groggy from sleep. Her voice had cracked and so had Michael's heart. He hadn't known it was possible to feel so awake and so foggy at the same time.  
“Yeah, hi, (Y/N), it's, hi, did I wake you up? I'm so, I'm so, shit, sorry, fuck. Hi.” Michael finished, whacking his head on the base of his bed. Shit, he scrunched his face up. That hurt.  
There was silence on both sides of the phone. Michael heard the sound of sheets being moved and braced himself. If (Y/N) was sitting up, then she knew something serious was about to happen. She always knew when something serious was about to happen.

“Michael?” (Y/N) said. Her voice was soft and Michael had to hold his breath to hear her. “Is that you? Shit.”  
Michael was surprised a knife wasn't sticking out of his chest. He closed his eyes and had to wait a minute before he could speak. He didn't want his voice to be shaky. (Y/N) couldn't know how scared he was in that moment.

“Yeah. It's me. Hey,” he said. There was no air left in the room.  
“Michael,” (Y/N) said again. “It's been a while.” There was almost no emotion in her voice, and what little there was, Michael couldn't label.  
A while. 3 months and 17 days to be exact. Yeah, that was a while. A tear leaked out of the corner of his eye and it burned his cheek as it ran down.  
“Yeah,” Michael said, mentally cursing himself. Did he have to say 'yeah' every time he spoke? “Sorry. About. Yeah.” Shit.

There's a shaky breath on (Y/N)'s side of the phone and calm's a little. He may not have done what was best for her, but he could always read her. She was nervous and he didn't know what that meant but it made him feel a little better.  
“No, Mik-Michael. It's okay. I was only kind of asleep,” (Y/N) said. Her voice was somehow shaky and smooth as honey at the same time. “I thought you deleted my number?”

Michael blinked. How did she know that? He bet one of the guys told her that. He was gonna kill whoever it was.  
“Well, yeah. I did. But I remembered it.”  
“Oh.”  
“Yeah.”

It was silent again. But this time, it wasn't as awkward. Okay, fine, it was pretty awkward, but it wasn't as bad as the last silence. Michael took the opportunity to crawl back onto his bed. It was soft and didn't seem as cold as it had been before the call.  
“So...?” (Y/N) prompted after a moment.  
“Oh. Yeah. I just wanted to talk to you. I-I missed you, (Y/N).” Michael's voice was high pitched and urgh.  
“I missed you, too,” (Y/N) said. Michael's heart dropped and there was a cyclone inside his head. She missed him she missed him she missed him.

  
“And I wanted to tell you something,” Michael said as he collected himself as best as he could.  
(Y/N) didn't say anything and for a moment Michael forgot they were on the phone. He could see (Y/N) clearly in his head, raising an eyebrow at him as a signal to carry on, say whatever he wanted to say. Michael rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. She could probably see him doing that, too.  
“Do you. Do you think that maybe. Maybe you could meet me?” Michael said.  
(Y/N) only hesitated for a fraction of a second before replying.  
“Yeah, sure. You could meet me by my locker on Monday?” she said.  
It was Friday night. Saturday morning. Michael couldn't wait that long.. He licked his lips and they were so dry he was disgusted at himself.

“Do you think that you could maybe meet me... like... now?” Michael said. He was proud of himself for getting all of that out without his voice breaking even once. He gave himself a pat on the back.  
What followed was the longest silence they had had yet.  
“Okay,” (Y/N) said. Michael was stunned. He blinked a couple times before he could speak.  
“Did you say okay? You said okay,” Michael said. It took everything he had not to scream 'no take backs!' He was punk rock and that wouldn't be very punk rock. Also probably wouldn't do anything to help him with (Y/N).

“Yeah,” (Y/N) said, and Michael could swear he heard her stifling a laugh. “Meet me at Clarence's?”  
Michael almost squealed. Clarence's. When they first started dating, they had met up at an abandoned house a few nights a week. They were lucky it wasn't completely wrecked or that homeless people camped out in it, because it had been one of their favourite places. They had made out so many times there that it had almost been routine, but they had also spent countless nights lying on an old sheet Michael had kept stuffed in a dusty cupboard, just talking until the sun came up.

(Y/N)'s favourite place had been the roof but Michael had preferred what they had assumed was the lounge. The only personal thing left in the house was a sign, maybe from a mailbox, that said 'The Clarence's.' So they had started calling it Clarence's. Michael had gone there to get drunk a lot when they first broke up before he got a grip of himself.

“Clarence's. Yeah. I can do that. I can do Clarence's. 15 minutes?” Michael said quickly.  
“Yeah 15 minutes. Bye, Michael,” (Y/N) said and she hung up. Michael stared at his phone for two minutes straight, barely breathing. The phone light timed off and Michael jumped into action. Shit. He swiped a t-shirt from the floor, not bothering to look at it, only sniff it to make sure it was clean enough before chucking it on. He pulled on his jeans and sprinted to the bathroom so fast the stumbled and his little toe connected with the frame of his door. Fuckshitfuckinghellouchfuck.

He speed walked to the bathroom, limping slightly. In front of the mirror, he saw his shirt for the first time. It was a worn out Green Day shirt. He could also see that he looked like shit. He squinted at himself before turning on the faucet and splashing his face with water a couple times. A speed-brushed his teeth and ran his hands through his hair a couple times. It was bleached blonde at the moment, but Michael wasn't sure how long he'd keep it like that. If this didn't work out, maybe he'd go back to black. Hair to suit his soul.

His hair was as fluffed up as it was going to get without a shower – which he didn't have time for – so he grabbed a leather jacket and his keys from the table beside the front door and let himself out. His parents weren't awake to worry about where he was going, and even if they were, they probably wouldn't be overly concerned. (Y/N) leaving Michael had made him a lot more responsible.

The outside air was cold but refreshing enough that Michael didn't feel the need to run back in to grab a couple blankets, another jacket, and maybe a heater. The stars looked beautiful and Michael felt as if they were shining extra bright tonight. They were probably rooting for him or something.

His car was an old silver Holden, and it started a lot louder than he would have preferred for it to do. The car engine noisily broke the silence the dark street had doing for it and Michael cringed. He drove as fast as he safely could. When (Y/N) had hung up on his, it had been 3:38 am. It was 3:49 now and since Michael had moved farther away from Clarence's last month, he still had a couple more minutes of driving left. Screw it, everyone's asleep, he thought, pressing harder on the gas.

He arrived a couple minutes late, though he doubted (Y/N) was keeping track of the time or even cared. Michael grabbed the torch he still kept inside his car and double checked it was locked before entering. He had to go around the back because the front was boarded up now.

The door squeaked when it was pushed open and Michael was scared shittless for a moment. He had never been scared when he had been there with (Y/N).  
“(Y/N)?” he called out. His voice echoed ever so slightly. There was no reply. He hadn't seen her car here yet so he figured he'd wait for here somewhere. Michael walked into the kitchen and almost by habit, he opened the cupboard under the sink and pulled out the old sheet. He hugged it tight to his chest before walking to the lounge. His torch was dying and Michael had to go extra slowly to make sure he didn't bash into anything again.

The blonde boy almost sat right in the middle of the lounge when his eyes crept upwards. The roof. Michael chucked the sheet away and ambled slowly to the staircase. It creaked when he stood on the first step but the house wasn't old or damaged enough that it would give way. There was only a slight chance Michael could die on them, and it would likely be from him tripping over his own feet.

He reached the top of the staircase and made his way down the only slightly creepy hallway to the main bedroom. The window was already slightly open. Michael pried it open as far as it would go and crumpled up his body so he could fit out of it. He stumbled a little when he managed to squeeze through, but he caught his footing before he fell off and broke his neck.

There was a laugh from his right, a soft, melodious laugh that could probably cure fairy illnesses if fairies got sick. He turned his head slowly, and (Y/N) was sitting there watching him curiously.  
“Hi,” she said, slightly awkwardly.  
“Hey,” he replied and carefully made his way over to sit beside her. (Y/N) was wearing a Blink-182 t-shirt, probably the one she slept in, but she had obviously tried to make it look better by pairing it with a flowery skirt and tights. She wasn’t wearing a jacket and Michael took his off to drape around her shoulders. He was a little cold but it was worth it to see her smile thankfully and nuzzle her chin into its shoulder.

“How did you get here?” Michael asked, trying to get the conversation started.  
“I walked. I live pretty close, remember?” (Y/N) said. She looked like she was about to nudge him with her shoulder but changed her mind mid move. Michael forced out a laugh.  
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, it’s late,” he said, making up excuses. Here he was, thinking about himself again. He had been so caught up in how he was going to fix this and what he wanted to happen that he forgot one of the most basic facts about (Y/N).

In the moonlight, (Y/N) looked even prettier than she had at school the day before. Her hair was shiny, tucked into the jacket, and her eyes flashed every time they darted across the sky, seeking out new constellations. She watched the sky, and Michael watched her. He was painfully aware of the fact that their shoulders were side by side, rubbing with every movement one of them made.

They were comfortably silent for a while before (Y/N) turned to face him.  
“Mikey,” she said. It was the first time he had been called Mikey in months. “What did you want to tell me?”  
The slight wind was suddenly harsh, cutting across his pale cheeks. His shoulders slouched. (Y/N) must have felt the movement because she fully turned her body to be facing him and took his hand in hers. The contrast was almost scary. He looked deadly white and she was beautifully tanned. Michael stared down at their hands, confused. He didn’t deserve it. Making a mental note to punch himself for it later, Michael drew his hand away. It subconsciously went to the back of his neck and (Y/N) followed its path.

“Okay. Yeah,” Michael started, avoiding (Y/N) intense gaze. Her eyes were pouring into his soul and he couldn’t make eye contact, because that would mean letting her in. Instead, Michael pursed his lips so no words could escape unless he 100% meant to say then and glued his gaze of the ground, two stories down.

Crickets chirped in the background and a car engine roared past a few streets over. When he felt his eyes start to burn Michael slammed them shut, squeezing tight. When he opened them, (Y/N) was looking away. She was still leaning toward Michael, her body open to him, but her eyes were down and she was chewing on her lip.  
“(Y/N),” Michael said. “Hey, can you look at me?”  
It was kind of hypocritical since he could barely look at her himself, but he needed the eye contact to say what he was about to say. He needed her support and needed to be able to see her beautiful eyes. Looking into them made it easier for him to realize how bad he fucked up and how bad he wanted to fix it.

(Y/N) raised her head and she was so close Michael could feel her warm breath on his face. He sucked in sharpy, so, so tempted to lean it and close the gap. (Y/N)’s eyes wandered down to his lips and hovered there for a moment before she snapped them back up and moved backwards. They were both breathing fast. Even in the dim light, Michael could tell that (Y/N)’s face was flushed.

Fuck, Michael thought. He was going to have to hurry up and blurt it out or it was never going to happen and they were going to sit on that roof almost kissing forever.  
“No excuse I have is going to make up for what I did,” Michael said. His voice was already shaky but he kept his eyes on (Y/N). “I was numb. One day I woke up and I felt nothing and I couldn’t snap out of it and you were a bright star and you shone through everything but I couldn’t reach you so I blocked you out instead. You were so taunting. Not-Not that it’s your fault.”  
Michael stopped to breath. He was surprised he hadn’t vomited yet.

(Y/N) didn’t say anything and Michael took it as an invitation to keep talking.  
“Blocking you out didn’t work. You’re so bloody persistent. Too good of a person,” Michael said with a short laugh. “I dunno. I started drinking and that didn’t help but I kept going and then you finally left me and I kind of broke out of it. You tried so hard for so long to f-fix me but reality was only hit me when you w-weren’t trying anymore.” Michael had to stop for a break.

(Y/N) sat watching him, still silent. There was a spell cast over them and it was as if Michael didn’t finish his story, it would be broken. A tear spilled slowly rolled down her cheek and Michael fought the urge to reach out and wipe it away.

“You moved on and I tried to move on too, but when I was with other girls, I went back to how I was. When I closed my eyes, it was you. And I guess this is everything I didn’t say, everything I didn’t have the courage to say. I loved you and but I couldn’t feel anything, and I-I guess that song ‘let her go’ knows what it’s talking about…” Michael trailed off. “I just want you to know that I appreciate how hard you tried so much and… I would do the same for you. I just wish I could make you forget and that we could start all over”

It hadn’t exactly turned out how Michael had planned. It had been supposed to be a hell of a lot more romantic and poetic and just, just everything it hadn’t been. He just hoped (Y/N) thought differently. She still didn’t say anything, but (Y/N) took Michael’s hand again and his heart skipped a beat. Was she going to forgive him? He didn’t deserve it.

“I understand that it was all my fault. I’m the only one who can be blamed,” Michael added, his tone dull. Her silence was beginning to take its toll on him. (Y/N) bit her lip again and Michael had to look away. He always thought she was incredibly hot when she did. Thinking about her in that way in that situation wasn’t going to do him any favours.

“You always did spill your heart out in silence,” (Y/N) said eventually. Michael stared blankly at her for a minute before letting himself laugh.  
“I forgot how smart you were,” he said. His voice was weak because he still didn’t know where this was going.  
“Have you figured out why what happened to you… happened to you?” (Y/N) asked hesitantly. Michael cringed but he supposed it was a legitimate question. He knew, of course, but he didn’t want it to come out wrong  
“I… Promise you won’t think I’m trying to make excuses or try and, I dunno, make you feel sorry for me?” Michael said.

When (Y/N) nodded softly, Michael took a deep breath and prepared himself to start talking again.  
“I guess my mom’s had problems with depression since I can remember so I guess it runs in the family and it hit me hard in 8th grade but I got better and then when it happened again, it wasn’t the same, it felt different, but I knew what it was and I couldn’t tell anyone and get help because last time I did, everything went to hell and-”  
“Michael! Mikey, breathe. You’re okay. It’s okay,” (Y/N) interrupted Michael. He only just realized he hadn’t been breathing. His words had strung together and if (Y/N) hadn’t understood it… He didn’t think he could repeat it again. But he could see from the expression she was wearing that she had understood.

Weirdly, it had gotten warmer and it was beginning to get a little bit lighter, even though there was still a couple hours left until sunrise. Michael felt like he was suffocating even though everything seemed to be going in the right direction.

“You’re not acting like yourself. You haven’t cracked a joke or insulted someone yet,” (Y/N) said awkwardly. She was obviously trying to lighten the tension.  
“If I’m being totally honest, if I was acting like myself, I’m not even sure what that would like look,” Michael said. He made a mental note of that - if he reworded that, it could be a pretty good lyric.  
(Y/N) looked away and Michael leaned in slightly out of his instinct to be close to her. When he turned back, her face was even close to Michael’s than it had been before.

If he moved forward, just a little jut of the chin, their lips would meet. He held his breath, all of a sudden scared that his breath stank even though he brushed his teeth before leaving the house. Michael stayed as deadly still as he could, not wanting to make the first move and force (Y/N) into something she didn’t want to do, but also didn’t want to move away and make it look like he didn’t want to kiss her. Because he did. Oh, how he wanted to kiss her.

Up this close, he could see the small flaws in her skin that (Y/N) covered with make-up when it was daytime and her features seemed out of proportion but somehow she still looked flawless. Her hair had fallen out from under his jacket and the wind was making it dance lightly on his arm. Michael was so distracted by this and the overwhelming smell of coconut that always seemed to hover around her that he didn’t realize (Y/N) had closed the gap straight away.

Their lips were touching but they weren’t moving and it was only slightly awkward. (Y/N)’s lips were soft and smooth and in a split second decision, Michael opened his lips slightly and (Y/N) took the hint. A current of electricity shocked Michael, warming him from head to toe. He had never felt more alive. His head fogged over and he let his instincts take over. They were moving together, had easily fallen in sinq, and Michael never wanted to stop. He slid his hand from hers and tangled it in her hair, gently pushing her closer. (Y/N) moaned slightly into the kiss, the sound so quiet Michael almost missed it. Her moan turned him on so much he was almost ashamed of himself.

(Y/N) pulled back, only slightly, breaking the kiss, and Michael took the opportunity to catch the breath. He was breathing hard and (Y/N) was too. Michael knew his pupils were blown and he could see that (Y/N)’s definitely were. His hand had fallen to rest on the bottom of her neck and the skin on skin contact was driving him crazy.

“Shit,” (Y/N) said, and, God, when did the world freeze over?  
“Oh,” Michael said.  
“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that, crap. I just. Mikey. I don’t know if I’m emotionally ready to try again, you know?” (Y/N) said quickly. A couple ice caps melted. That was totally understandable.  
“I know. I know, (Y/N). And I can’t guarantee it won’t happen again,” Michael said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

They sat in silence, something they seemed to be doing a lot. (Y/N) watched the stars, and Michael watched (Y/N). She was biting her lip again.  
“I’m not saying I don’t want to try again,” (Y/N) said to the sky. “But I’m not saying I want us to jump right into it either.” Michael didn’t reply. Instead, he kissed her cheek softly. He hovered there for a moment before pulling back. He stood up, brushing himself off. Michael extended a hand and (Y/N) took it without any hesitation. Though it was difficult, they managed to climb through the window and walk to Michael’s car without breaking their clasp even once.

They drove to (Y/N)’s, the only sound being The Cab playing quietly in the background. Michael drove without needing directions once, even though it had been months since he had been to (Y/N)’s. He pulled up to the driveway and they sat there, facing the house. Neither of them wanted to move. A recurring thing tonight, Michael made the first move.  
“Are we gonna try again?” he said straight out.  
“Yes. I think so,” (Y/N) said, turning to look at him. The eye contact practically made Michael swoon. She was so beautiful and the fact that she was so forgiving made Michael’s heart and head hurt simultaneously.

Michael slowly leaned forward and (Y/N)’s eyes darted all over his face, never settling, until she gave up and slowly moved forward too. They met in the middle and (Y/N) ran her tongue along Michael’s bottom lip. He let his lips part and they Michael let himself go completely. He could smell coconut again.

This time, he was the one to pull away, though it almost killed him to do so. They were both breathing hard again but trying to hide it.  
“You have to go inside,” Michael said into her cheek. “You’re mom’s scary when she’s angry.”  
The sun was rising and he knew that (Y/N)’s family were earlier risers. If they noticed she wasn’t there, the devil might as well break free from hell.  
“Yeah,” (Y/N) said. She didn’t move.  
“I’ll call you tomorrow and maybe we can meet up,” Michael promised. “We can sort everything out. See how fast we’re willing to go.”  
(Y/N) closed her eyes, obviously conflicted.  
“Slowly,” she said. “We’ll go slowly. Maybe it’ll work out this time if we do.”  
“I hope to god it does. I missed you,” Michael said, finally pulling back, leaning back into his seat.

(Y/N) bit her lip and ruffled Michael’s hair lightly. He laughed and ducked his head. With a smile gracing her face, (Y/N) opened the car door and got out of the car. Before she closed the door, she ducked down and wow, she was an angel.  
“I missed you, too, Mikey,” (Y/N) said before walking gracefully to her house. Michael watched her go, wearing a grin so wide he was surprised his face wasn’t split in half.

Instead of going home, Michael found a 24/7 coffee shop and sat there for a couple hours. He needed to go over things, make sure he was in the right state of mind, that he didn’t fuck up again. By 6 in the morning, Michael was ready. He was never going to let (Y/N) go again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave kudos :) you don't need an account to do so <3


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